


Teach Me Tonight

by javajunkie



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, High School AU, Romance, friends to romance, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:42:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26983831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/javajunkie/pseuds/javajunkie
Summary: High School AUOliver Queen is an entitled legacy. Felicity is a scholarship student.  Their paths cross when Felicity is assigned to be his Latin tutor.
Relationships: Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak
Comments: 107
Kudos: 180





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been toying around with the idea of a high school AU and came up with this idea (which I previously wrote as a Gilmore Girls story about fifteen years ago - I cannot believe I am that old.). Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy it!

Felicity leaned against the hostess stand, chin propped on her hand as she let her thoughts wander. Like most days, she dreamed of her future, and one that hopefully wouldn’t include Las Vegas. Not to say she didn’t enjoy her hometown. It was nice and all, but grow up in a glitter-keg, and you end up craving something a bit simpler. Felicity spotted her mother across the casino, shooting one of the regulars a wide grin as she gave him a whiskey and coke. Donna got Felicity the job as a hostess a year back, both of them knowing Felicity wasn’t going to make her dreams come true on only a cocktail waitress salary.

A rowdy group of boys headed toward the restaurant and Felicity straightened, steeling herself for one of the least favorite parts of her job. Oliver Queen led the charge, carrying with him the nonchalance of a person who owned the place. Which, he sort of did. His family owned the casino. 

Oliver walked up to the hostess stand, rapping his knuckles on the wood. Felicity wanted very much to swat his hand away, but she kept her hands to herself.

“Hello…” he trailed off, looking for a nametag.

“Felicity,” she finished. “We’ve met. Repeatedly.” There still wasn’t even a flicker of recognition and she added, “We go to school together?”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” she returned irritably. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, my boys and I were hoping you had a table available.”

Felicity made a show of typing, although in reality, there would always be a table for Oliver Queen. It was one of those annoying realities of life. Like, getting runs in your tights the first time you wear them. And how much flossing sucked.

“Yes, we have a table,” she said. “Follow me.”

She led them over to a table and one of his friends said, “Are you sure you go to school with us?”

Felicity looked back. “Yes, Tommy. I’m sure.”

“Huh,” Tommy said.

“And here is your table,” Felicity said, stopping at a round number near the back of the room. “Your waitress will be here soon.”

* * *

That night, Felicity and Donna settled in for a night of TV dinners, their feet propped up on the table. When they were finished, Donna sat up suddenly and said, “Oh my God, I completely forgot!”

Donna ran over to the kitchen and Felicity said, “Please tell me you didn’t leave a burner on again. We’re so going to die of carbon monoxide one of these days.”

“No, not the burner. Babe, it’s here.”

Felicity turned around and asked, “What’s here?” She noticed Donna clutching an envelope to her chest, and said, “Oh my God, is that what I think it is?”

Donna nodded, coming and sitting next to her. “It’s your MIT application.”

“I can’t believe it.” Felicity went to take it, but then pulled back her hand. “I just ate a frozen corn dog. I can’t have the meal I was eating when I got my MIT application be a frozen corn dog.”

“We’ll just make up something else! Something classy, like a steak. Or beef stroganoff.”

“You know what, no,” Felicity said straightening. “I am owning this moment, corn dog and all. I can’t believe it’s finally here.”

“This is your future, babe,” Donna said, squeezing Felicity’s knee. “It’s all happening now.” 

* * *

Felicity had wanted to go to MIT from just about the first time she had access to a computer and looked up the best tech schools. It was after she had taken apart and rebuilt their microwave for the third time, Donna kissing her on the head and saying, “I love your brain, babe. But _please_ stop doing this.”

Ever since then, Felicity had been doing everything she could to position herself as a good candidate for MIT. She aced her way through Spring Valley High, landing herself a scholarship spot at the illustrious Paradise Prep. It hadn’t been the easiest transition. The students there were practically raised together and they weren’t the most welcoming to outsiders, but she threw herself into the academics and extracurriculars. She didn’t need friends. What she needed was the right foundation to get her to MIT. 

Which was how she ended up adding something else to her already bloated schedule: tutoring. Her Latin teacher, Mr. Reyes, had asked her after class one day if she would consider tutoring, saying the magic words of “it would look great on a college application”. And so, she agreed. Besides, what was the worst that could happen?

And then Mr. Reyes told her that she would be tutoring Oliver Queen.

Felicity waited for Oliver in the library, watching the time tick away on her watch well beyond the time that Mr. Reyes said Oliver would be meeting her. After thirty minutes, she slid her books back into the backpack and left the library, stopping short when he saw Oliver over at the lockers, Laurel Lance between his body and the cool metal.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Felicity muttered, stalking over to them. “Hey, Oliver. Are you forgetting something?”

He looked at her blankly and she rolled her eyes. “My name is Felicity. Seriously, how many times do we have to go over this?”  
“Sorry, _Felicity_. What am I forgetting?”

“Our tutoring session. I was waiting for you in the library for thirty minutes.”

“Yeah, I’m not doing that,” he returned easily, turning his attention back to Laurel.

“Do you think you could have let me know that before I wasted thirty minutes in the library waiting for you?” she asked testily.

“Yeah. Probably.”

“Unbelievable,” Felicity said. “You know what, fail Latin. What do I care? You’re _you_ , so you’ll probably still get everything you want.” 

And with that, she turned on her heel, walking away from them with mild regret for her outbreak. The regret was short-lived, though, and she had all but forgotten about it when Oliver approached her during her hostessing duties at the casino. He seemed reticent, not rapping his knuckles on the hostess stand like he usually did.

“If you’re here to apologize, you can save your breath,” she said.

“Well, I’m still here to apologize. I’m sorry for standing you up. That was rude of me.” He paused, adding, “And Mr. Reyes also said I will fail Latin if I don’t get my grade up, so…”

“And the truth comes out,” Felicity said.

“I really am sorry. And I promise not to stand you up again. I’ll be early, even.”

“Oliver,” Felicity sighed. “Why would I possibly want to tutor you after how you treated me today? You stood me up. You barely remember my name.”

“Because you’re a good person, _Felicity_ ,” he said.

“Well, look at that. You know my name. Only took you a year.”

“I promise to be early and always remember your name,” he said. 

“Why don’t you just hire a tutor?”

Oliver scratched the back of his neck. “My parents don’t exactly know about me failing Latin. I'd like to keep it that way." 

"What's the worst they can do to you?"

"Well. Considering this is my third prep school in almost as many years, I think a nice stay at a military school in Germany was floated around."

"At least you'll get to see other parts of the world," Felicity said.

Oliver smiled slightly and said, "I would really appreciate it if you would give me a second chance. But, it's up to you."

Felicity considered his proposal. She couldn’t exactly put tutoring on her application if she didn’t actually tutor anyone, and she didn’t think it would look particularly good to turn away willing participants, even if they were Oliver Queen. Besides, he seemed relatively chagrined by how he behaved.

“Fine, I’ll help you," she said. He went to say something, but she quickly cut him off with a finger in his face and said, "But, you will be on time. And bring coffee.”

Oliver nodded, rapping his knuckle against the stand once. “Deal.”


	2. Chapter 2

After several tutoring sessions, one thing was abundantly clear to Felicity, and that was that Oliver was remarkably bad at being tutored. True to his word, he was never late, even sometimes showing up early at the room she reserved for them at the library every Tuesday and Thursday. But, he was constantly distracted. First, by seemingly everything around them. How quiet it was. The number of people in the library.

Felicity had smirked at that one and said, “Yes, Oliver, some people actually study. Without being threatened by their teachers.”

When he ran out of things to comment on around them, he shifted his focus to her. One afternoon, as she was trying to teach him Latin conjugations, he said, “How come we never hung out before this?”

From someone else, it may have sounded like a come on, but there was no pretense to the way he said it. He was genuinely curious.

“I don’t really think I would categorize this as hanging out,” Felicity said. 

“You know what I mean. I’ve never seen you at any parties or anything.”

Felicity began to push the cap of her pen off and back on, an anxious habit. “Well, that’s because I was never invited to those parties. Not that I wanted to be. Parties aren’t really my scene, which is probably not that surprising.”

“I don’t know. That cardigan you’re wearing screams party to me.”

She smiled slightly. “Anyway, let’s get back to verb conjugations. So, the singular-“

“Hold on, so is that just the problem? You weren’t invited?” He straightened up. “Well, consider this your invitation. I’m having people over Friday night. Mindy’s hot chocolate is catering.”

“You have catering for a high school party," she said with disbelief.

“Yeah, why not?” Oliver said with a shrug.

“I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll pass.”

“What? Why?” Oliver pressed, generally flummoxed as to how someone could turn down such a good offer.

“Parties really aren’t my thing. And honestly, the idea of spending a Friday night with all of you…” she trailed off, eyes widening when she realized what she said. “Not that you’re all bad. _You’re_ very nice. Actually, surprisingly so. But, like I said, I’m not really a party person.”

“We’re not that bad when you get to know us,” Oliver said, a bit defensively. “Some would even say we’re pretty fun.”

Felicity just nodded tightly, thinking about all the times she had “gotten to know” them at the casino. They barely paid attention to her, even the ones who did remember that they all went to school together. She could feel that they looked down on her, even if they didn’t say it, and she couldn’t imagine any of that would be different at a party. In fact, she could see it being worse. When she was on the clock, she had no choice, but she wouldn’t subject herself to that on her time off. 

“We should really get back to verb conjugations,” Felicity said after a prolonged silence. “You know, since that’s why we’re here and all.”

“Yeah sure.”

* * *

After their session, Felicity went over to her locker to pick up some books to take home, and her friend, Roger, walked over and said, “Are you replacing me with Oliver Queen?”

Roger Silverman was one of the first friends Felicity made when she transferred to Paradise Prep. He was a legacy, like the Queens and all the other names who could date their attendance at the school back to its opening, but he couldn’t have acted farther from it. He was warm and generous and one of the few people who didn’t make her feel like an outsider.

She grinned, looking over at him. “Not in a million years.”

“Because, we were supposed to check out the book fair this afternoon,” Roger said leadingly.

“Oh no,” Felicity said, eyes wide. She vaguely remembered them talking about going earlier in the week, but it hadn’t even occurred to her when Oliver asked to move their tutoring session to the same day. “I completely forgot.”

“It’s fine. I still went and got some pretty great stuff. I also knew you’d want this.” He reached into his bag and pulled out the latest _Throne of Roses_ book. “It was the last one.”

Felicity gasped and took the book, clutching it to her chest. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Was that to me or the book?” he asked.

“Both. Thank you, Roger. I promise not to stand you up again.”

“It’s okay, it happens. So, how’s the tutoring going? Does he still keep marveling at how the library has books?”

Felicity smirked, closing her locker and slinging her backpack over her shoulder. “No. You do realize that never actually happened, right?”

Roger shrugged. “I just figure it’s bound to sometime.”

“Today was actually sort of weird. I think I hurt his feelings.”

“Seriously? I didn’t know people like him had feelings. I thought all the pedigree and scotch kicked it out of them.”

Felicity arched an eyebrow and said, “You do realize that _you_ are people like him, right?”

Roger scoffed. “We are very different.”

“You live in the same neighborhood.”

“Only because it’s where my parents live.”

Felicity smiled, shaking her head. “Anyway, he invited me to a party at his house and I _may_ have suggested that his friends are awful.”

Roger snorted. “Well, you’re not wrong.”

“Yeah, but you don’t say that _to_ the person.” Felicity said. “Anyway, it’s fine. I’m sure it will blow over.”

* * *

That evening, Felicity worked her normal shift at the casino, fake smile plastered on as she counted down the minutes until she could go home. She was unusually tired, a headache forming in a tight band of pain around her eyes. After seating a couple, she checked her watch. Only one more hour.

It was supposed to be the home stretch, but then they walked in. She noticed Tommy first and he had the good nature to say hello – at least some of Oliver’s friend group had improved since she became a somewhat consistent part of his life – and then she saw Oliver. He gave her a half-wave, the sort of wave you gave to someone you didn’t really want to see. Apparently, what she said during their tutoring session had not blown over. 

“We have another two coming,” Helena Bertinelli said, not looking at Felicity when she addressed her.

“So, that’ll be…a table of five?” Felicity finished.

Helena turned her piercing gaze to her. “Yes. You can see there’s three of us.”

“Right,” Felicity said, her head pounding as she reached down and grabbed five menus. “Follow me.”

She took them over to a table at the side of the restaurant and Helena immediately said, “I won’t sit here. There’s a vent.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said there’s a _vent_ ,” Helena repeated, her voice rising.

Felicity nodded, a loud roaring sound beginning to ring in her ears, a telltale marker that she was about to have a migraine. Wonderful.

“Sorry, I’ll find you another table,” Felicity said, looking around. There was another six-seater on the opposite side, and as they headed over, Helena said, “There’s a vent there, too." 

Felicity looked up, and sure enough, there it was. She never knew there were so many vents up there.

Helena testily asked, "Is there someone else that can seat us?”

“Nope, unfortunately there is just me. Let me just…” she cast her gaze back up to the ceiling, searching for a vent-less spot. She located one, and mercifully, there was an open table. She sat them, avoiding Oliver’s gaze, and said, “Your waitress will be right back.”

As she walked away, she heard Helena say, “They’re really scraping the bottom of the barrel with the help here, huh? It’s like she didn’t know what a vent was.”

Felicity’s shoulders tightened at the insult and she took her station back at the hostess stand, bringing her hand up and pressing her thumb and pinky at the pressure points on either side of her eyes. She was like that when Oliver came over, startling her.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said.

“No, it’s fine,” she said. “Is there a problem? Let me guess, another vent?”

“I’m really sorry about Helena.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I think I’m starting to see why you don’t like my friends.”

“It’s fine,” she repeated. “The customer is always right, right?”

“I don’t think that exactly applies to this situation.” He noticed her grimace, her hands tightening on the stand, and asked, “Are you okay?”

“Fine.”

“You say that word a lot.”

“Yep, almost so much that it’s lost all meaning.” She saw that he looked worried, and she told him, “It’s just a migraine. I get them sometimes.”

He nodded with recognition and said, “My mom gets those. Whenever she has them, she has to be in her bedroom without any lights on.”

She smiled weakly. “Yeah, can’t really say that’s an option for me.”

“All these lights must be killing you,” he said.

“It’s not great,” she admitted. “But, I only have about an hour left. I’ll manage.”

“Are you sure? I can probably have one of the waitresses cover if-“

“I’m okay,” she interrupted. “But, thank you.”

He nodded. “Anyway, sorry again for Helena.”

He went back to his table and after a few minutes, one of the waitresses came over with a mug of coffee. She seemed confused as she said, “Oliver Queen sent this over. He said something about it helping with migraines?”

Felicity grinned, gratefully taking the mug of coffee. “Thanks, Lydia.”

She looked back at Oliver’s table and when she saw that he was watching, she raised the mug, mouthing “thank you.”


	3. Chapter 3

One month into tutoring Oliver, Felicity had worked out a relatively successful way of getting work done. For their one hour session, he was allowed to ask one personal question after twenty minutes of work and then, in turn, he had to answer the same question. Through this, not only did Oliver sail through his Latin assignments, but they also acquired an arsenal of odd facts about the other. For instance, Oliver only ate hot dogs with mustard. Felicity disliked pickles because they were just like little cucumbers which she, not so coincidentally, also disliked. Oliver was impartial on the topic. 

One slow Tuesday afternoon, Oliver asked Felicity who her dream dinner guest would be. Felicity didn’t hesitate before telling him, “Dolly Parton.”

“Really? Dolly Parton?”

Felicity nodded emphatically and when Oliver still didn’t seem convinced, she said, “Dolly Parton is a national treasure.” She pointed at her hair and added, “She’s also the reason this happened.”

“Hold on, you’re not a natural blonde?”

Felicity shook her head. “It was my sixteenth birthday gift from my mom. She likes to say I did it to look more like her, but we both know the truth. Anyway, it’ll be two years as of Saturday, and still going strong.”

Felicity was about to ask who his dream dinner guest would be, when he asked her, “Hold on, Saturday is your birthday?”

Felicity hadn’t meant to divulge that little bit of information and she said, “Oh, yeah. It is.”

“Are you doing anything?”

“Not really,” she said evasively, leaving out the part where she and her mom were having a party with her neighbors. While her and Oliver had progressed to something akin to friends, she still didn’t feel they were invite-to-your-house friends. At least not _her_ house. Oliver was probably accustomed to mansions with built-in swimming pools and tennis courts. Her neighborhood was a far cry from that. 

“So, what about you?” Felicity asked in hopes to change the topic. “Who is your dream dinner date?”

Oliver considered this for a moment and said, “Probably Elon Musk. I’d see if I could squeeze a Tesla out of him.”

Felicity smirked. “Of course, you would.”

* * *

That evening, Felicity worked at the casino as usual, manning the hostess stand while Donna worked the floor, bringing the gamblers their drinks with an added smile, which she hoped would bring her some tips. Oliver and his friends were there, as usual, and he talked with her a little before joining his friends at the table. He stopped by now more than before, staying for a few minutes as they talked about this or that. Donna had noticed, but only made one comment, noting that it was nice that Felicity was making more friends at school. Felicity only nodded and smiled in return, not wanting Donna Smoak to suddenly start reading into things. Unfortunately, her nonchalance backfired. Because when Oliver met Felicity for their next tutoring session he said, “How come you didn’t mention before you were having a birthday party this weekend?”

Felicity was never particularly good when put on the spot, and she sputtered over a few non-starters, before Oliver attempted to take pity on her and said, “Your mom told me about it.”

Felicity had several questions. First of all, how did Oliver know her mother, and then secondly, why were they off having secret conversations about her birthday? She asked both of them and he said, “She talks to you a lot at work and you two look alike. It’s not that hard to figure out you’re related.”

“Fair point,” she admitted.

“And we weren’t talking about your birthday,” he said. “I mentioned that we were friends from school and she invited me and some friends to your party.”

“Some friends,” Felicity repeated, feeling her cheeks heat. Oliver in her house was bad enough, but she didn’t even want to imagine the rest of them.

“I don’t have to go,” Oliver said, reading between the lines.

“No, of course you should come,” Felicity said, feeling bad for how she reacted. “I just didn’t realize she invited the whole crew.”

Oliver smirked at her use of the word crew and said, “Don’t worry, only Tommy and me are available this weekend. The rest of the _crew_ is otherwise occupied. They’re going to a music festival in Lake Tahoe.”

Felicity felt a bit of relief at that. She could handle Oliver and Tommy.

“Why aren’t you and Tommy going to the festival?” she asked.

“We’ve both been banned for life,” Oliver answered easily.

“Oh, naturally.”

He shrugged.

“Well, I would be happy to have you both at my party.”

* * *

When Felicity returned home after school, Donna took one look at her daughter’s face and said, “That’s not a good look. Did that girl take your spot in the library again? I told you, leave one note with colorful language and she’ll keep her distance.”

“No, Mom, it’s not that,” Felicity said, shrugging off her backpack and dropping it on the seat. “And I can’t leave a note with _colorful_ language. What if someone else sits there?”

“Even better. Then you really stake your claim.”

Felicity rolled her eyes. “This isn’t about the library. You invited Oliver Queen to my birthday party?”

“Yes, I did,” Donna said brightly. Her face dropped when her daughter did not share her enthusiasm. “Hold on, why does this seem like a bad thing? I thought you two were friends.”

“He’s not my friend,” Felicity said. “I’m his tutor.”

“Yeah, well, he stops at your hostess stand a lot for not being friends.”

“He’s just being polite,” Felicity said. “I may have pointed out a few weeks ago that some of his friends are jerks. I think he’s been trying to over-compensate.”

“Well, I’m sorry, we can just un-invite him.”

“No, we can’t un-invite him,” Felicity said stubbornly. “It’s fine. I already talked to him and he’s only bringing Tommy, which I can handle. The worst Tommy will do is probably hit on you.”

“You can’t fault a boy for trying.”

“Mom!”

“Oh Felicity, relax. I was only joking. Look, I’m sorry about all of this but your birthday is going to be amazing. I ordered the cake this morning. I think I’ve really outdone myself.”

“Why does that have me moderately concerned?”

“Don’t worry about a thing, sweetheart,” Donna said, standing up and giving her daughter a tight squeeze. “Your eighteenth birthday is going to be the best one yet. I promise.”

* * *

The morning of her birthday, Felicity spent a good part of the day hiding away any incriminating childhood photographs, which Donna unhelpfully kept putting back out. Felicity snatched a photograph of her in the bathtub, her hair swooped up in a pyramid of suds, and said, “Stop putting this back out!”

“But you look so cute,” Donna said. “Look at your hair.”

“No baby photos,” Felicity said, stuffing the picture into a drawer. She spotted a clown figurine she had always hated and grabbed it and put it in the drawer too for good measure.

“We never put stuff away before,” Donna said, eyeing her daughter warily as she whipped her head around, no doubt looking for the next piece to be hidden.

“Yeah, well, you decided to go and invite people from my school. So, there are new rules.” 

“I don’t see why you’re in such a state over this. They’re just people.”

“Yeah, but they’re not like us,” Felicity said quickly. “They live in mansions with housemaids and…and _topiaries_. We don’t have topiaries.”

“I don’t want topiaries. I’m not even sure I know what a topiary is.”

“My point is that we’re different,” Felicity finished tightly. “Very different.”

Donna was quiet for a moment and then said, “I never thought I would have raised you to be ashamed of where you’re from.”

Felicity felt guilt settle on her stomach and she said, “Mom-“

“I need to go pick up the cake. Finish vacuuming the living room when I’m gone.”

Donna walked out, leaving her daughter alone. Felicity busied herself with vacuuming, and when she finished that, she dusted and tidied, anything to distract herself from what she had said earlier. Donna worked around the clock to provide for her, and she basically told her that she was embarrassed by what that brought. She was almost sick to her stomach with guilt by the time Donna came back with the cake and she walked over to the kitchen, watching Donna slide the cake into the refrigerator.

“I’m sorry, Mom.”

“It’s okay,” Donna said.

“No, it’s not. I love our life. I really do.”

“I know I can’t give you the sort of lives those kids at your fancy school have, but I think I’ve done a pretty good job.”

“You’ve done a great job,” Felicity said, walking over to Donna and giving her a hug. “I’m really sorry, Mom. We can put my baby photos back out?”

“No, I won’t embarrass you like that in front of your friends. But, thank you.” She pulled back and smoothed Felicity’s hair away from her face. “You’re not going to keep your hair like this for the party, right?”

Felicity half-laughed and said, “Seriously, Mom?”

“You look so nice with your hair down. You know, you can really catch a boy’s eye that way.”

“Mom. Whatever you are thinking, stop it right now.”

“I’m not thinking anything,” Donna said innocently. “But, if I were…”

“You are impossible,” Felicity said, walking away.

“Where are you going?”

“To put my hair down so you don’t comment on it all night.”

Donna smiled and said, “Good girl!” 

* * *

Felicity’s birthday party was an eclectic mix of neighbors and friends, a group that shouldn’t mix, but when asked to, did so remarkably well. Oliver and Tommy were late, and after an hour, Felicity thought she might actually get away without them coming. But then there was a knock on the door, and Felicity opened it, surprised to see Oliver standing in the doorway with a large bag of ice.

“Someone just handed this to me and left? I’m supposed to give it to you,” Oliver said.

“The ice is here!” Donna said happily from behind Felicity, stepping around her daughter and taking the large bag. “You have officially earned your keep, Oliver Queen.”

Oliver laughed. “Happy to help.”

“Come in,” Felicity said, stepping to the side and holding her breath as they walked in. She could do this. They were both nice enough, and since they were late, it would only be a few hours before she could politely nudge them on their way and go to bed.

Felicity walked back over to where she had been with Roger, and when Oliver saw him he said, “Roger, I didn’t know you’d be here. We could have car-pooled.”

“Yes, we could have,” Roger said simply, covering the silence with a sip of his soda.

Beside Oliver, Tommy snorted, and Felicity quickly said, “Oliver, Tommy, drinks are over in the kitchen.”

“Thanks, Felicity.”

When they headed off toward the kitchen, Felicity smacked Roger’s arm and asked, “What was that?”

“What? I agreed with him. He said we could have car-pooled. I said, yes, we could have.”

“There was _subtext_ ,” Felicity said. “You promised to be nice.”

“This is me being nice.”

“Roger-“

“Look, you had spent two years being rejected by their friends. Try eighteen years. This is as nice as I can be.”

“Oliver and Tommy are not that bad.”

“Yeah, but the rest of them are,” Roger said. “And, look, I know you don’t agree with me on this, but you can’t separate those two from the rest of them. It’s not how it works.”

Before Felicity could respond, Oliver and Tommy returned, Tommy looking around before he said, “Wow, this house is really-“ Oliver cleared his throat, “-nice.”

“Thanks, Tommy.”

“I particularly enjoyed the photos on the refrigerator.”

Felicity blanched, recalling the selection of childhood photo shoots that she had neglected to take down from the refrigerator. She had been so focused on the living room that she completely forgot about the kitchen.

“I think you really missed your calling as a child model,” Oliver said, voice warm and teasing. Felicity found herself smiling despite her embarrassment, and then Donna walked out of the kitchen with the cake, loudly singing happy birthday as the rest of the room joined in. Felicity saw then why Donna had been so proud of the cake. It was her face. To be more specific, it was her class photo in all of its horrifying edible glory.

“I’m really glad we came in time for this,” Tommy said.

* * *

Later that evening, the party had started to dwindle down, people losing steam from either too much sugar or Donna Smoak’s infamous punch (the secret ingredients was alcohol and lots of it). Pretty soon, it was just Roger, Oliver and Tommy left. Roger was staying the night and so Felicity walked Oliver and Tommy out, Oliver gesturing for Tommy to go ahead and that he would meet him at the car.

“Thanks for coming tonight,” Felicity said, standing with Oliver on the porch. 

“Do you still regret our being invited?” Oliver said knowingly with a grin.

“Not at all,” she said truthfully. The evening ended up going okay, despite her reservations.

Oliver paused for a second and said, “So, are you and Roger…”

Felicity shook her head immediately and said, “We’re just friends.”

Oliver nodded, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Anyway, I wanted to give you your birthday present before you go.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” Felicity said.

“It’s your birthday, of course I did,” he said. “Take out your phone.”

“My phone? Why?”

He grinned. “It’s part of the gift, I promise.”

Felicity didn’t follow, but she took out her phone, and then he said, “What’s your phone number?”

She was still a bit suspicious, but she gave it over, curiously watching as he typed it in and then her phone pinged with a new message.

“My birthday present is a text from you?” she asked dubiously.

He grinned and shook his head. “Just look at the text.”

Felicity looked down and swiped into the message, her heart beginning to beat rapidly when she saw that it was a video of a woman. She recognized the woman immediately. Large blonde hair. Bubble gum pink lips. She pressed play immediately.

“Hi there, Felicity. Oliver told me that you have a birthday coming up. I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday and I hope you have the best year yet. And also, nice choice on the blonde hair. Us blondes really do have more fun, huh? Happy Birthday, Felicity!”

Felicity played the message again, not believing that this had actually happened, and Oliver said, “It’s not exactly dinner with Dolly Parton, but it’s the best I could do on such short notice.”

“How in the world did you do this?” she asked.

“My family knows someone who knows someone. You also should be getting a signed CD in the mail soon.”

Felicity stepped forward and hugged him tightly. “Thank you. This is beyond anything I could have dreamed. Really.”

He hesitated before putting a hand on her lower back. “Happy birthday, Felicity.”


	4. Chapter 4

Ever since her birthday party, Oliver had tried unsuccessfully on numerous occasions to get Felicity to hang out with him and his friends. He told her that, except for Helena Bertinelli, they were a harmless group and that, since they were now friends, it was only a matter of time before their friend groups would have to meet. Felicity thought this was overdramatic, but Oliver insisted.

“What friend group?” Felicity had returned. “I have Roger. And you already know him.”

She successfully fielded his attempts, until the one day that she didn’t. Really, she should have told him no. She had her interview with admissions at MIT earlier that day, but he caught her in a moment of distraction and when she nodded her head yes to his question, he was so delighted by her answer that she didn’t have the heart – or the time – to come up with an excuse. And so, she did what any other reasonable high schooler who inadvertently agreed to go to a party she didn’t want to go to would do. She enlisted reinforcements.

“I’m not going with you,” Roger said immediately.

“Come on, you have to!”

“No, I’m pretty sure I don’t. Why are you even going?”

“It was a moment of weakness,” Felicity said, slumping against her locker. “He mentioned Saturday, which obviously made me think of my interview, and then he asked me a question and I wasn’t really listening so I just nodded.”

“You just nodded?” Roger asked, to which she, again, nodded.

“Look, I’ve been dodging this for weeks now,” Felicity said. “If I just go to one I feel like I’ve done my friend duty. So, why don’t you just go to this one with me and then neither of us have to go to another.”

“I like how I am still getting roped into this, even though I have never technically been invited to any of these.”

“We’re a package deal. Oliver knows that.”

Roger groaned. “If I go, can we stop talking about this?”

“Yes. We can.”

“Fine, you have me for one hour. And tell Oliver I am expecting good food.”

Felicity grinned and gave him a tight hug.

* * *

That Saturday, Donna helped Felicity set up her Zoom for her MIT interview. She originally thought that she would be doing the interview in person, but a few weeks prior, admissions had told it would be virtual instead. In a way, this made Felicity more nervous. In person, there was less to control but now she had to contend with spotty WiFi connections and auto-updates. She almost considered doing the interview at school, but decided against it at the last minute. And so, she set up her laptop at her desk, repeatedly checking the camera view to make sure something embarrassing wasn’t showing in the back of her bedroom. But, it was just her closet closed shut to hide the over-stuffed mess of clothes and bags.

There was a knock on her door and Felicity jumped, quickly scrambling up out of her seat and over to the door. Donna stood on the other side with a glass of water and said, “I brought this for your interview. How are you holding up?”

“Well, besides me wondering why my closet doors are the color they are, I’m doing fine.”

Donna gave her daughter a quick hug, nearly spilling the water on her.

“Sweetheart, you are going to do great. You know how I know that?”

“Blind faith?” Felicity offered.

“Because you are my beautiful and brilliant daughter. I love you so much, kid.”

Felicity grinned. At least one of them was feeling confident. “Is that water you almost spilled for me?”

“Yes, it is.” Donna held out the water. “Do you need anything else?”

Felicity shook her head. “Maybe just stay off the internet? I’m still afraid of it not connecting.”

“I can do that,” Donna said with a curt nod.

Felicity’s phone alarm went off, signaling her that she had ten minutes left before the interview.

“I’ll come down after,” Felicity said.

Donna nodded, giving Felicity one last quick squeeze. Felicity closed the door and sat again in front of the computer. This was the first step. Interviews were routine at MIT, but it still felt like an immense opportunity. A piece of paper could only say so much about a person, but this was her chance to leave an impression. She couldn’t waste it.

As planned, Felicity logged into the Zoom session early, once again checking the camera view to make sure nothing had changed since her last look, and then she waited for the admissions officer to start the call. He did a few minutes before noon and Felicity took a deep breath, thinking to herself, _showtime_.

* * *

Donna was midway through an episode of 90-Day Fiance when Felicity walked downstairs and sat next to her on the couch. She quickly paused the episode and looked over at her daughter, immediately seeing that something was wrong. Felicity was pale, her eyes darting back and forth.

“Felicity? What happened?”

“I blew it.”

“What?”

“I completely blew it,” Felicity said, putting her head in her hands. “It was a complete and utter disaster.”

“Did the internet cut out or something?” Donna said. “Because I’m sure the guy knows technology can be screwy. You can write him something in a follow-up email.”

“The internet was fine,” Felicity said. “It was _me_. I completely froze.”

“I don’t believe that,” Donna said, rubbing Felicity’s back. “You’re probably just being hard on yourself.”

Felicity looked over at Donna. “He asked me if I could have dinner with anyone, who it would be, and I said Gloria Estefan. _Gloria Estefan_!”

“Okay,” Donna said slowly. “That’s not what I thought you would say, but…”

“When he asked me I just froze and then I remembered a commercial I had seen for _Get on Your Feet_ , and I just said it. I could tell he was surprised. He didn’t even ask any follow-up questions. Just moved on to the next one.”

“Maybe it’s because Gloria Estefan needs no explanation?”

“And it only got worse after that,” she said. “I couldn’t remember any of the answers I had prepared. It was so bad. He probably made a big note – don’t accept this girl.”

“I’m sure they know you kids get nervous during the interviews.”

“Anyway, it’s over,” Felicity said, standing up. She rubbed at her face. “I’m going to go take a shower.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk more?”

Felicity shook her head. “I just want to forget about it and move on. Find a new dream school.”

“Oh, Felicity-“

“I’m fine,” Felicity said. “Really, I am. I just need to scrub the last thirty minutes from my memory.”

Donna nodded sadly. “Okay. You go shower and I’ll make you some hot cocoa, like when you were little.”

Felicity only nodded in response and headed back upstairs.

* * *

A cup of hot cocoa and half a season of _Doctor Who_ later, Felicity drove to Roger’s house. Oliver was hosting the party, so it was only a walk down the street from Roger’s. Her friend could immediately sense that something was wrong, and Felicity told him, “The interview didn’t go great.”

“Your definition of not great is probably very different from other people.”

“I told the interviewer that if I could have dinner with anyone from history, it would be Gloria Estefan.”

Roger stared at her. “Well, that was a choice.”

“I choked,” she said, already feeling the sort of flippant turn to the situation that only deep-seated despair could bring. “And now my entire future is ruined. So, let’s go to this party, yeah?”

“Are you sure you even want to go?” Roger asked warily.

“Yes,” she said definitively. “I need something to take my mind off of everything. This party sounds like the perfect thing.”

“If you say so,” Roger said unconvincingly.

“I do say so. Let’s go.”

* * *

Roger and Oliver stood to the side, watching Felicity take a shot with Tommy, and Oliver said, “Huh. It’s weird. She looks like one of _us_.”

“Please don’t include me in that plural,” Roger said.

“Is she okay?” Oliver asked. He couldn’t image many things that would make Felicity take shots with his friends, and none of the things he could imagine were good. Roger hesitated, not knowing whether he should tell Oliver, but Felicity was currently getting trashed in the guy’s house, so it felt appropriate to tell him, “Her MIT interview didn’t go well.”

“I feel like her definition of it going well might be different than other people.”

“That’s what I told her!” Roger said, surprised and uncomfortable with the sudden shared ground between him and Oliver Queen. “Anyway, she told me about some of it and it definitely was not the greatest, but I think she’s overreacting. The problem is she’s so used to being perfect at everything.” Roger paused and added, “And it was MIT.”

“What’s the big deal about MIT?” Oliver asked.

“It’s her dream school.”

“I’m sure the interview isn’t everything,” Oliver said, watching Felicity suddenly lurch violently to one side. Thankfully, one of their friends caught her, his arm going around her waist. Oliver noticed, not without some annoyance, that the guy didn’t move his arm. Felicity leaned heavily against him, laughing loudly at something Tommy said. Suddenly, Felicity went rigid. Oliver wondered if the guy’s hand went somewhere it shouldn’t, but he needn’t have worried.

“Oh no, I know that look,” Roger said. “She’s about to puke.”

As if on cue, Felicity darted off to the bathroom but she didn’t make it, emptying her stomach contents into a potted plant halfway between the living room and the bathroom. Roger went to help her, but Oliver was quicker, and he quickly took a hold of her arm and helped her over to the bathroom. Felicity stumbled over to the toilet, messily going down to her knees and hugging the toilet.

“Just leave me here,” she said, her mascara leaving inky tracks on her cheeks. 

“You are a surprisingly dramatic drunk,” Roger said from the doorway while Oliver crouched next to her.

“I think you had a little too much to drink,” he said.

“You think?” she bit out.

“Oh, and mean, too,” Roger said. “What a delightful combination.”

Oliver looked back at Roger. “Can you take her back to your house? I think the party’s over for her.”

Roger nodded. “Yeah, I’ll take her back.”

Oliver soothingly rubbed Felicity’s back and said, “Roger’s going to take you home now, okay?”

Felicity nodded, letting Oliver help her stand up. Roger slid his arm around her waist, taking on much of her weight as they moved through the house. Helena smirked meanly as they passed and Roger hissed, “Oh, like you haven’t been like this or worse.”

“He’s right,” Oliver said after they left.

“Don’t worry, Oliver. I have nothing but respect for your charity case.”

Oliver ran his hands over his eyes. “Helena, get out of my house.”

Helena stared at him with wide eyes. “What? You can’t be serious.”

“I mean it. Get out.”

She waited for his bluff, and when it didn’t come, she said, “Fine. This party sucks anyway.”

She left in a huff, taking some friends with her. Tommy walked over to Oliver and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Man, I’ve been wanting to do that since seventh grade.”

* * *

Felicity woke up the next morning with a splitting headache and the driest mouth she ever felt. She was in the guest room at Roger’s house, but didn’t remember how she got there. She dimly remembered the night before. The drinks. A potted plant.

She sat up shakily, bracing her head on her hand. She would never drink again. That much was sure. She went out to find Roger and found him in the living room playing video games. His parents were eating breakfast in the kitchen and offered her a bright good morning. Felicity sat next to Roger and asked in a low voice, “Do they know…”

“Yeah, you sort of fell on your way in.”

Felicity winced and said, “Well, that’s great. Your parents must love me now.”

She glanced furtively over her shoulder at them, but they continued to eat their breakfast in content silence, Roger’s father flipping through a newspaper and his mom on her phone.

“I can promise you, they don’t care.”

“I’m sorry about last night. I don’t remember it all, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t good.”

“It’s okay. You had a bad day.”

Felicity rubbed the back of her neck. “Did something happen with a potted plant?”

Roger looked over at her. “It’s better if I don’t answer that question.”

“That is not reassuring,” she said, swallowing hard. “Okay, I’m going to go home now.” She stood up and said, “Bright spot of all of this? I am never going to another party.”

“I knew there would be a light at the end of this tunnel.”

Felicity suddenly realized that Donna likely hadn’t know where she had been overnight, and Roger, sensing the panic, said, “Don’t worry, I texted Donna from your phone that you were spending the night.”

“How do you know my passcode?”

“I wasn’t sure I did, but I got it on the third try. I should have known you would use Dolly Parton’s birthday.”

Felicity smiled slightly. “You’re a good friend, Roger.”

“After the day you had, I figured you needed one. You do know it’ll all work out, right? Whether at MIT or somewhere else.”

Felicity nodded. “I’ll see you Monday.”

* * *

Donna hovered when Felicity came home, and while she appreciated the motherly attention, she also had her very first hangover and she desperately wanted to put her head under her pillow. Midway through the day, there was a knock at their front door. Donna answered it, and Felicity was surprised to see Oliver walk into their kitchen.

“Hi Oliver,” she said, feeling her cheeks color for all that she didn’t remember from the night before. 

“How are you feeling?” Oliver asked, sitting opposite her at the table.

“Peachy keen,” she said with a weak grin. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“No reason at all,” he returned smoothly.

He didn’t speak for a moment, and Felicity suddenly had the horrifying thought that something may have happened between them the night before. When she mentioned that, Oliver laughed and said, “No, that’s not why I’m here. And nothing bad happened. Unless you count the potted plant, but my mom had been wanting to replace that anyway.”

“Oh God,” Felicity groaned. “I thought Roger was joking about that.”

“Anyway, the reason why I’m here is to talk to you about MIT.”

Felicity’s face darkened. “What about it?”

“My dad has a friend who’s on the admission board,” Oliver said. “I mentioned to him that you had applied there, and he said, if you wanted, he could set up an interview for you.”

Felicity stared at him. “I already had my interview.”

“Yeah, but this wouldn’t be one of those,” Oliver said. He cleared his throat and said, “This is actually the Dean of Admissions.”

“You’re kidding,” she stammered.

“No, I’m not,” he said. “It wouldn’t be long. My dad said maybe ten or fifteen minutes, but-“

“Yes,” Felicity said immediately. “That would be great.”

Oliver nodded. “Okay. I’ll let him know.” After a beat of silence, Oliver drummed his fingers on the table and stood. “Anyway, that’s all I wanted to say. I won’t take up any more of your weekend.”

“Oliver, wait.”

She stood up suddenly and walked over, throwing her arms around him. He was surprised, but after a moment he put his hand on her back. Felicity became acutely aware of his body against hers, the heat of his hand through her shirt, and when she pulled away she was struck by the look on his face. Her hands still on his shoulders, she murmured, “Are you sure nothing happened last night?”

Oliver began to lean in toward her when Donna walked into the kitchen and they sprung apart, Oliver giving her a hurried goodbye as he walked out of the kitchen. Donna looked at her daughter with narrowed eyes and asked, “What did I just walk in on?”  
Felicity shook her head, her gaze still toward the door where he had left, and murmured, “I have no idea.”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you would like to see more!!


End file.
